Prologue．
Among the remnants of the Ottoman's time(despite the white mask), Sadiq has only 1 thing to be with him 7/22. That is the Kilij of the golden handle, with a turquoise embedded as the scripture wolf's eye.
"Where did you get this? It looks fabulous, but a bit feminine," father once asked him, and he smiled bitterly.
"From my love," Sadiq answered, fingertips on the blade surface, with a short sentence craved on. "Lost one." He then added, embracing the pain brought by simple wordings.
—Ölüm bizi ayırana kadar. Til death does us apart.
Years after, still, the one he loves is lost, though the female lieutenant remains by his side.
"Will you leave?" He asks.
"Upon your commands," She says.
"Then I command you to stay."
"Yes. Me Anatolia, my body and soul are always with the Empire till I'm a corpse. Like in my vows in 1453," She bowed, with a scarred hand on her chest. Same as the years before, she's far away from him.
"I further command you to stay as yourself."
"I already did, your honour. I stay because I am your sword and shield, which is all of my own wills."
"I want no servants or soldiers,' He trembled, regrets craved inside the shiny ambers. "I want you only, Aylia. All I want is you," the man added, trying to grab the injured hand but failed.
Turning so fast, as she was still the pretension, the eagle of Istanbul... The Iron Lady of Osmanli.
Another sincere bow wrecked the hope, which was all he had, into pieces.
"I am grateful for your reward. Yet please allow me to refuse..." A mist layer had been formed inside the two Agean lakes. Yet tear never drops out from her eyes, even when she's bowing to her lord.
"Years fade, then affections, and we've grown. Player and chess piece are not meant to be together, Lord Sadiq."